We All Choose A Path
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: The generation that survived and experienced World War II and Grindelwald's War in Europe have universally been known as a resilient and special generation. Their choices touched history in so many ways. Various povs. Chapter 3- Hagrid
1. Innocent

This is for the Ten to One Challenge at HPFC and will feature eleven chapter one (this one) focusing on everyone and ten more with a focus on individual characters from the era. Also, this acts mostly as a prologue so future chapters will be longer.

So here we go with the prompt innocent.

* * *

In every moment of every life, a person makes that one decision that changes them forever. It is inevitable that it will happen. They may not know the truth or they may never realise the importance but it is true that one choice can have a crucial impact.

The generation that survived and experienced World War II and Grindelwald's War in Europe have universally been known as a resilient and special generation. Their life and decisions may not have been based on either conflict, but there was much more happening at the time than those events: Lives were being forged. It may have been a simple action or inaction. There were just so many events that would fundamentally impact individuals and the world in the future.

History would go on to remember the generation in various ways: The strict and stern Professor McGonagall, the cold Mr Black, the wise Professor Dumbledore, the bumbling oaf Hagrid, fat simpering Slughorn, strange Uncle Lestrange, scheming Rosier, quirky Aunt Lucretia, aging Grandmother Abbott and, of course, Lord Voldemort.

That was their future. That was the people they eventually became.

They were not always like that.

At one point they were innocent.

Mostly.


	2. Kind

So here is my first chapter. Each will take place in a different year and using a different prompt. This time it is Albus with the prompt kind. As well please note that huge parts of this chapter are from The Secret Riddle chapter in Half Blood Prince so where there are stops in time this is where the information from the book would go.

* * *

_1938_

Albus Dumbledore had been through a lot on his life. He had experienced a muggle war, the gruelling destruction of his family and being forced to turn againstl the man he had loved. However, all of that had made him the man he was today. It had enshrined in him a constant desire for justice and determination to do what was right. There was a way things should be and he would work to ensure everything was fair and right.

He also wanted to be kind.

He remembered his friend Elphias Doge entering Hogwarts with scars from dragon pox and how one act of kindness had made his face light up and made all the difference in the world.

He remembered Ariana who was still the sweetest and kindest girl he had ever met.

He also remembered Gellert. He remembered how he could have be kind with his false promises and smiles.

Despite it all, Albus was sure that a combination of justice and kindness were the best ways humans could act.

Tom Riddle had been one of many to test his view on kindness

It had started off as any other day where he was fulfilling his duty as Deputy Headmaster by visiting the new first year muggleborn students. Past experience had taught them that few muggles believed an owl carrying a letter declaring they were a wizard or witch, so a little convincing was often required.

This particular boy might have been a little different since he was raised in an orphanage and might not have actually been a muggleborn, but that hardly mattered. Blood statuses never did.

Wearing the plum coloured muggle suit that he was always fond of and always used to visit muggle families, he entered the orphanage and set out to find a Mrs Cole.

* * *

Following the slightly tipsy Mrs Cole from her office, Albus had concluded the whole situation was sad. Yes, the children were given all they required, but everything was filled in lank black and white tiles and everyone wore the same grey tunics. Perhaps, with just a little bit of extra help or even some colour, the situation could be improved.

However, he knew the difficulties of the situation and that he could not help so, while he walked, he smiled cheerfully at the orphans and helpers.

Poor Tom's life seemed just as depressing. His mother had stumbled into the orphanage on New Year's Eve and died; only staying alive long enough to name her son. From a grandfather with a name Marvolo, he suspected she might be a witch, though, witch or muggle, it was still a tragedy. He could only imagine what she must have gone through to stumble upon an orphanage like that and then succumb to death so quietly.

The orphan boy was then left alone in these dreary conditions, though no father or any kind of relation ever claimed him. Albus could remember his own family life. It may not have been perfect, but having a family there for some part of his life had always made him happy. He could only imagine the devastation of never having one in the first place

Mrs Cole's talk of incidents was more disturbing. Of course, incidents of underage magic were common and, often fuelled by turbulent emotions, sometimes unpleasant events could occur and people could be hurt, but the events she described seemed alarmingly premeditated.

It was worrying, but, when he saw the boy, he might be able to fix him.

Continuing to smile to not alarm the orphans or Mrs Cole, he entered the door on the second floor landing.

* * *

Leaving Tom Riddle's room and the orphanage, Albus was more shaken than he ever would have predicted. The boy was damaged; there was no doubt about that. He might have intended to hurt those children and animals like Mrs Cole had suggested. Even worse was a demanding presence, an anger that seemed so unusual in an eleven year old and, more concerning, a significant control over his powers. Clearly the boy had potential to be a powerful wizard, but his motivations may not be pleasant.

Still, Albus tried to focus on what else he had seen. Tom had been through a lot and he was so young. With kindness the boy could learn and grow to be the right kind of man. Albus had taught him not to steal, he had delivered justice and now Tom could go down the right path.

By kindness Tom could be helped

When Tom arrived at Hogwarts, he could keep watch over him and, by kindness, Tom could be transformed into a morally right and pleasant boy.

He decided it was all he needed to do.

Then, he left. He left having concluded he had made the right decision. Tom had been disciplined and justice had been delivered, but the boy had been treated kindly. He knew there was something not quite right with him, but by kindness the errors could be fixed.

It would go on to become his most regretted decision.


	3. Hope

Now here is Hagrid's chapter. It is the first time I have ever written more than a hundred words from his pov so writing his dialogue was a struggle, but I think it turned out rather well.

* * *

_1942_

The halls of Hogwarts had never felt as bleak and lifeless as the strangely tall boy staggered down the moving spiral staircase from Headmaster Dippet's office. Only fourteen, a shaggy beard covered his face in an unusual thickness for a boy his age. Tears littered his eyes as Hagrid sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his robe.

He could not wear them now. The Hogwart's robes that his father had been so proud to purchase for him would have to be thrown away. He was no longer a student so he had no right to be seen in them.

Blowing his nose loudly on his sleeve, a loud wail echoed up the passageway as he stepped off the moving staircase and into the hallway. He did not know what he could do. His mum had left him and his dad when he was three and, only last year, his dad had passed away too. He had never known any of his mother's relatives and there was very few of his dad's relatives that actually talked to him.

He did not know what to do.

He wanted to keep walking like the Headmaster had told him to do, but he had nowhere to walk to.

With another defeated cry, Hagrid crumpled to the ground and to lean against the wall with a force that shook the portrait against the wall he was slumped against.

"Why?" he cried loudly. "Why? Why? Why?"

Sobbing, his mind drifted back to all that had happened that day.

* * *

Hagrid had only been to the Headmaster's office once when he had been told of his father's passing the year before, but strangely the tension and sadness in the room was greater now. He could not look at anyone. He could only stare at his textbook sized hands as small tears leaked out from his beetle like eyes into his shaggy beard.

What could he say? The evidence seemed completely against him. Tom, who had always seemed so nice, had found him feeding Aragog. Little Myrtle had only died a few days ago and finding him with an Acromantula must have caused suspicion.

It was not true. Aragog was a pet. Aragog was his friend. One of the few that he had. He never would have hurt anyone, but Tom had told them he was keeping a monster and all had seemed to think Aragog was the monster that had attacked all of those poor people.

"It wasn' Aragog," he sobbed still not looking up. "He neva hurt anyone. I don' know wha' happened ter 'em."

"I am aware that the Wizengamot has found there is not enough evidence to place any charges, but there is no doubt that something amiss had occurred." The elderly bald Headmaster Dippet said softly and a little reluctantly. "I have no choice but to expel you, Mr Hagrid."

Hagrid let out a high pitched wail as he buried his face in his hands. "Please no please," he muttered though it was muffled by his huge hands. He could not hear anything other than his crying. He did not know what was happening. He was only aware of his own sorrow. He had already lost Aragog, his father and now Hogwarts?

He was lost in his own emotions for several minutes until he felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder. His usually pale face was flushed red and there was tears congealed in his beard and hair and, when he looked, he stared into the bright blue eyes that were hidden behind half moon spectacles.

"It will be alright, Hagrid," Dumbledore said gently in a kind old voice. Hagrid did not really believe it, yet he nodded along with the words. Somehow it felt a little better hearing them.

"We need your wand, Mr Hagrid," Headmaster Dippet said behind Dumbledore in a matter of fact tone.

Any settling feelings of relief that Dumbledore's words had evoked disappeared immediately as his hands clenched around his robe pocket. He could not surrender his wand. What could he do without it?

"I'm sorry, Hagrid, but you will have to hand it over," Dumbledore said softly. If it was anyone else, he did not think he would have surrendered it, but, because it was him, he hesitatingly removed his wand and handed it to Dumbledore with shaking hands.

He knew what was going to happen, but he could not look. He buried his head in his hands again. He sobbed softly.

It grew louder when he heard a distinct snapping sound.

* * *

He was still huddled in the corridor ten minutes later when someone else stepped from the suddenly moving staircase. He hardly noticed and instead remained filled with his grief.

For the second time that night, he felt a caring hand touch the top of his head. Looking up he found Professor Dumbledore kneeling before him.

"Hagrid," he said gently. "It will be alright."

He was not normally someone to reject authority figures, but, engulfed with a feeling of hopelessness, it just came out.

"No," he hissed sorrowfully and defeated as he blew his nose loudly on his sleeve. "No it won'. I have nowhere ter go"

Dumbledore smiled kindly gently patting his shoulder. "Ogg has been requesting an assistant. If you like, I'm sure he would love your assistance."

"Really?" he croaked in disbelief. "Yeh would really do that fer me."

"Of course." Slowly from the folds of his robes he pulled up two distinct pieces of oak that had not so long ago been one whole wand. "Here keep this safe for now."

Clutching the remains of his wand, Hagrid descended into hysterical sobs as he threw his arms around Dumbledore.

"Thank yer. Thank yer. Thank yer," he repeated over and over again into Professor Dumbledore's shoulder.

Maybe he did have a reason to hope.


End file.
